Old Faces
by Sir Something
Summary: Many centuries have passed since the fall of Olympus and the first Ragnarok. Kratos remains in his exile. But his peace is disturbed by a familiar face.
1. Chapter 1

Kratos stared into his fire. The sounds of the woods echoed about him. His forest had felt different. Something old had come into his boundary and he waited outside his home for it.

"I know you are there."

In answer, someone came from the tree's. A girl, still a child, dressed simply. What struck Kratos most were her eye's. There was fire there, but not the kind he was used too. No, rather than the raging inferno he was so used to, this was more gentle, reminding him of his old hearth.

"Hestia."

"Hello, nephew."

The two shared a look, before the Spartan nodded his head to a log across the fire from him. The goddess took a seat. Staring into the small flame she took a stick and began poking into it, the flame growing warmer. The two remained in silence a moment longer.

"It has been a long time my dear nephew."

"..."

The silence stretched on, only interrupted by the crackling of the fire and the sounds of birds.

"How long do you intend to remain in this exile, Kratos?"

"I do not intend to leave it."

"The age has changed. You may yet be able to find a new place in the world."

"The world may have a new face, but God's are still the same."

For this, Hestia had no reply.

"Why have you come here?"

"You have felt it haven't you? The old powers are stirring. Kronos himself may return soon."

"Is that why you are here? To call me to fight for Olympus again?"

His frame tensed. Although he had no weapon, Hestia knew he was but a twitch away from having a weapon in his hand. The axe in the stump looked particularly dangerous, and practically sang with the magic of the North.

"No. I have no delusions that you would fight for us. Not after all we did."

The Spartan relaxed, the fight leaving him as quickly as it came.

"Then for what purpose have you come to my home?"

"I have come to ask, that should the titan's forces come to your door, that you will remain neutral."

She looked him in the eye. She saw him for what he was then. There was no sign of the blood soaked soldier, or the wrathful god. Just a man. A man worn from loss, and tired of rage.

But beneath it she also saw what once was. She could feel the power that had brought low Olympus.

He looked in her eye's, and gave her a nod. They sat in silence for a moment longer, before she left. Kratos stared into the fire a moment longer, it's warmth left behind by the Goddess.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Artemis

 **Originally this was going to be a one-shot, but now I guess it's going to be a series of them. Don't expect much. Maybe six chapters.**

* * *

Kratos strode through the tree's, following the worn path and the the tracks of the beast he hunted.

Then he heard a whisper. From the tree's came a warning. Huntress' in the woods. Led by a goddess. He growled and changed his course, stomping through the underbrush in search of the intruders.

He knew he found them when the sounds of the forest stopped. He could feel their hostility, his instincts telling him he was being watched.

They emerged, quietly. All women, with some manner of weapon, mostly bows with silver arrows aimed at some vital organ on the fallen god.

And then _She_ came.

She seemed no older than the other hunters. A girl barely old enough to be considered a woman. But she was more beautiful than them all, with raven hair and grey eyes.

It was the eyes that gave it away.

"Hello Kratos."

"Artemis."

His hand itched for his axe, but he held himself off. He counted the number of hunters, and took stock of the goddess. Which would shoot first? Would his shield spring into life fast enough to block their arrows? Where could he find a path not filled with arrows?

"Lower your weapons. This is not a fight that can be won."

The hunters seemed hesitant, but obeyed their ladies wish. Though none put away their weapons.

"Why have you come here?"

"I was curious. These woods have been hidden from most that care to look. And not a single monster. And now I can see why."

"Most know better than to cross me."

"And those that don't?"

"You should know."

The silence stretched. The forest held its breath.

"I will ask only once. Leave."

"Why should I? You are outnumbered and cornered. I could bring your head to Olympus." She said this so casually, like she was discussing the weather.

"You might bring me down. But how many of your hunters will die for it."

The hunters tensed at the implied threat. Kratos stood, and the only tell Artemis let out was a narrowing of her eye's.

With a gesture she commanded her hunters, each melting back into the forest, followed by the Goddess with a parting glance at the Spartan.

The forest let out a breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Atlas

Today was a slow day. Nothing needed doing around his home. His pantry was full. The dryads were quiet, so there were no dangers or uninvited guests. He'd been by and tended the garden and its few plants. So he found himself sitting in his chair and sharpening Leviathan.

Truly a peaceful day.

So the knocking on his door had him ready for battle.

He marched over to the door, axe ready and prepared for the worst.

He yanked open his door and found himself looking at a chest. Then he looked up into eye's like stone.

"Hello, Spartan."

"Atlas."

The titan was dressed in a modern business suit, but Kratos knew it was him. He still remembered that voice that spoke with the strength of the earth.

"What do you want?" the Spartan gritted out.

"I do not come to fight Kratos. Despite what you did to me, I come to make you an offer."

"Then speak quickly."

"Olympus is weak. Kronos gathers more of his strength each day. Join us Kratos. Finish what you started so long ago. Help us bring Olympus crumbling, and take a place in the new world order we will bring."

The Titan extended a hand, an empty smile on his face. Kratos considered it, clenching Leviathan tighter.

"My vengeance ended that day on Olympus. I have no interest in your war. Now leave."

Atlas frowned. "Disappointing. Will you not consider my offer?"

"No. Now leave. Or perhaps I should put you back."

The titan's face was thunderous. His massive hands twitching with a sudden urge to reach out and crush-

But no. He took a breath and he was gone. The forest seemed to sag in relief. Kratos simply closed the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Kratos strode through town. Even dressed in something that could be considered 'modern' he still drew attention. He entered the general store he always got his supplies. He didn't expect the greeting.

"Well, well, well. I heard you were back among civilisation. As far as this place could be considered 'civilisation'".

The man who spoke was slim, but clearly athletic, dressed like a mailman and wearing a winged helmet. Despite his cocky grin, his eyes darted back and forth, lingering on the doors.

"What business do you have here, Hermes?"

"Why, I am simply doing my duty. Lord Zeus-"

"I have no interest in whatever Zeus wants. Leave me to my business." With that he went to resume his errands. Until he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not leaving until I deliver what I came here to deliver."

Kratos looked at the hand, then back to the god to whom it belonged. "Tell me, how are your legs?"

Hermes paled, removing his hand. Then he moved away so fast it seemed he teleported.

"Yes well, you want me out of your beard? Take the damned package. And if we're both lucky, we won't meet for another three thousand years."

Kratos growled, holding out his hand. Hermes handed him a tablet and pen. "Please sign here."

Kratos roughly wrote his name before shoving them back to the Messenger God. He just put them in his pocket before pulling a wrapped box from his messenger bag. One that was too long to fit in the bag.

"Lord Zeus gifts this to his son, as a sign of a past he hopes to bury and the possibility of future cooperation."

Kratos took the box and placed it under his arm before turning away.

Hermes hesitated, before offering a few words. "Zeus wanted to keep this a secret. But we both know how gossip spreads on Olympus. It won't be long before everyone back home knows where you are. And I do mean **everyone**."

Kratos stopped. He looked over his shoulder. "Why tell me this Hermes?"

"Because the destruction of Olympus was a long time ago, brother. And you are family. No matter how much we all wish it weren't so."

A beat of silence before he added, "And I believe you deserve some warning before **he** decides to pay an unexpected visit."

Neither needed to say who **he** was. The implication hung thick between the two.

"Well, I'll be going. Still much to do." But Kratos had already tuned him out. Continuing with his day.

When he arrived home, he looked at the package delivered by Hermes. The gift from his father. With trepidation he opened it.

He stared. His reflection in the blade stared back.


	5. Chapter 5

Something was different. The air was electric. There was a tension to the world. It felt like a calm before the storm. The dryads told him rumours of the war, of the Titans and their forces, and the escalating battles. Even Typhon was growing restless, emerging from his prison.

But that was not what had his attention at the moment.

The forest had gone still. All the creatures could feel the presence when it entered. It was old and powerful, and filled with malice. Kratos prepared to meet it, armed with his old weapons.

When the forest grew silent, he knew it was here. He didn't expect the boy who came to meet him.

But when he saw the golden eye's he knew who stood before him.

"Kronos."

"Kratos."

Their greetings exchanged the two stood and stared, Kratos tense and bracing for a fight, Kronos almost lazily, relaxed and cocky.

"Is this what the Ghost of Sparta has been reduced too? A lowly hermit, hiding in the woods?"

"And is this the King of the Titans? So weak he has to a use a boy to walk the world."

"Do not test me Spartan." the Titan gritted out. "After what you did to me, it would be a pleasure to tear you apart. But I am a reasonable lord. Serve me. Swear fealty to me and I won't kill you when I sit on the throne of the world again."

"No. Now leave."

Kronos glared a hole through the immovable Spartan.

"Then I suppose I'll satisfy myself with vengeance."

He raised his scythe, ready to cut down the fallen god like wheat. He barely changed his attack to a block in time to catch the blow.

His feet dug trenches through the earth to keep him standing. When he caught up with the rest of the world, he took in the sight of blade Kratos summoned.

"No…."

Kratos rested the Blade of Olympus on his shoulder.

"How did you get that wretched thing?!"

"A gift from Zeus. Now I give you one more chance. Leave."

Kronos glared. His teeth grinded, and his grip on his scythe turned white. Kratos worried the king of the titans would attack and gripped the blade more firmly. But when the tension grew thickest, Kronos turned, and was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Kratos walked into the pub. He had no reason to come before, preferring his solitude. But there were some things one couldn't avoid.

Like a summons from the King of Olympus.

There were a few scattered patrons. Most lounged at the bar, nursing their drinks after a long day. He scanned the few men sitting around until he found one that didn't belong among the riff raff of middle of nowhere Maine. A tall man, sat at a table, dressed in a faded pinstripe suit, with a beard as impressive as his own and eye's like a thunder cloud, streaked with lightning.

Their eyes met and Kratos walked over to him. He took the seat opposite and the two sat, stares assessing.

"Hello, my son."

"Father."

No more words until a member of the staff came and left a pitcher of beer for the two. When she left, Kratos finally broke the silence. "Why are you here?"

"Can I not come and see how my own flesh and blood fares?"

Kratos glared, and Zeus sighed before pouring them both a drink from the pitcher.

"We both knew this would come. I cannot simply ignore you, as much as you wish I could. I believed it would be better to do this here than try to have you brought to Olympus."

They finished their drinks before Zeus, topped them up. "I am grateful," he said, "that you chose not to fight in the war. I hope we can at least remain neutral."

"Why?" the Spartan asked. "You have held grudges for reasons far more petty."

"Because I cannot risk an enemy as powerful as you. And I know I can't kill you. So instead I choose to make peace. "

"Is that why you sent me the Blade?"

They stared. "In part, yes." he raised his glass. "I give you one of the few weapons that could kill me. A gesture of trust. Because I know you wouldn't hesitate to use it."

"You did not know I would keep it."

"Did you try throwing it away?" Silence. "It found a way back to you, didn't it?" Kratos drank his beer to avoid answering.

"You did much with the blade in your brief time wielding it. Drained your own power into it. Spilled blood with it, both mortal and divine. Such things leave marks. The blade is as much yours as my Bolt is mine."

Zeus took one last swig. He stood and left crisp bills to pay for the drink. "I'm not asking you forgive me Kratos, or even to trust me. All I ask, is that you don't hate me." He turned away.

"I grew tired of hate long ago," Kratos said to his back, "but if you cross me again, I will end you."

Zeus gave a grim nod, before vanishing, leaving behind the smell of rain.


	7. Chapter 7

"We sure this is the place?"

"Cabin in the woods? Ass end of Maine? The 'Slasher in the woods' vibe? Yeah I'm pretty sure this is the place."

"Don't get smart with me Jackson."

"Clarisse, enough. We're tired, cold, and all a little on edge. Let's not add to that now that we're so close to half way done."

Clarisse huffed at Annabeth's words. Percy just held his arms closer to keep what warmth he could as he walked through snow. Once again he wondered why he had to spend his winter break out in frozen Maine.

But then again, one does not simply say no, when the God of War tells you to go on a quest. As much as he would have loved that, it probably wouldn't be worth the trouble. Ares' "I know a joke and you're the punchline" grin when he reluctantly accepted didn't help matters.

Given it was Ares, it probably involved actual punching.

But eager to get the hard part over with, and maybe a bit of warmth, he trudged through the snow to the door of the small log cabin his group had been sent to find, idly noting the beat up pickup truck of to the side. He knocked on the door, the girls at either side. He heard feet stomping their way from the other side. When it opened, Percy looked up.

And up.

And up.

 _Wow_ , he thought, _that is quite a beard._

Up a bit more and he finally noticed the amber coloured eyes, hard like steel, and the faded red tattoo over the man's left one. It stood out against his ashen skin.

And the muscle. Real muscle straining against his shirt. The kind gained from hard work and battle. But more than that, there was the power the giant of a man exuded, subdued as it was.

"What do you want?"

Percy just stood there slack jawed. Then Clarisse shoved him aside. "Look old man. It's freezing out here. Give us what we want and we can all go home."

He observed her and only Annabeth noticed the clenching of the strangers jaw. "Your kind are not welcome here." He said "You should leave."

He turned, but the daughter of Ares didn't seem to take his statement well. He grabbed his arm and tried to spin him around to face her. "Are you threatening us?" The man sighed, turning to the demigod's. "Look," The wise girl interjected. "We're just here to deliver a message and retrieve something. We do that, and we all walk away."

The man looked at Annabeth, scrutinising her, before his gaze focused oh her eye's. Percy would swear he heard him mutter something. "You have **her** eyes." What Percy didn't get was he spat it out like a curse.

"Fine. What did you want."

"Ares said." Percy, finally finding his confidence again, "that he wants his blades back."

The man's expression became thunderous. Which Percy found impressive since his standard seemed to be 'irritated glare'. "Tell Ares that if he wants them, he can come for them himself."

"Oh, I was hoping you would say that." All eye's swerved to the new comer. Percy knew the man, dressed in biker leathers and eyes of fiery death. The strangers reaction was the most noticeable. He froze, not a twitch.

"Ares."

Oh no, he thought. That was angry. That was so angry I have gone full circle and am now completely zen, levels of angry.

"Been a while, Kratos."

It was quiet, but the tension was so thick one would need a battleaxe to cut it.

Then everything exploded.

Like a shot, the man now named Kratos had blasted of at Ares, kicking up snow and leaving a smokescreen of it between them and the demigod's. They couldn't see the fight, but they could hear it. And boy could they **feel** it. Each blow the two exchanged shook the air, thundering through the clearing and shaking the three to the bone. When the snow finally cleared it was just in time for them to see Kratos smashing Ares with a boulder as big as his truck.

Ares leaned on one knee and tackled Kratos, dragging him beyond treeline. With the two gone, Percy took stock of the clearing. The ground was torn up beyond recognition, scarred with trenches and potholes and at least 3 trees were reduced to jagged, broken stumps. _All that,_ he thought, _in just a few seconds?!_

Ares came flying back into view with the sound shattering wood. The God of War stood, ignoring the ichor leaking from his broken nose, his mouth twisted into a grin that showed too many teeth. "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT KRATOS!"

Kratos strode into the clearing, fury evident in his every expression. There wasn't a scratch on him. He held his arms to his side and grabbing something in the air. Fire swirled around his arms, thickening in bands around his forearms and taking shape in his hands. When it faded, two wicked looking blades were clenched in his fists, each a massive, jagged thing, chained to his forearms and marked with designs foreign to the three onlookers.

But more than that, there was the way the blades felt. Like fire and blood, chaotic and violent. It made the demigods shiver.

Ares frowned at them. "What in Hades did you do to my blades?"

"Come and find out!"

And with that the two charged. Ares, a sword appearing in his hand, locked blades with Kratos. The two glared, straining against each other to gain an edge. The two seemed to grow brighter. Percy only recognised the site because he had seen Ares use it once before. He was getting ready to cover his eyes.

"Really boys, I think that's quite enough."

The two battling gods, for what else could Kratos be, when he was getting ready to unleash his true divine form just as Ares was, stopped at the voice. In fact, everything stopped. As one, all eyes turned to the intruder.

"Hestia…." Ares gritted out.

"Now my dear nephews. If you would stop trying to kill each other we could all go home."

"I'm not leaving until-"

"You will leave, Ares." The childlike goddess' voice was firm. Ares sagged, then dropped his blade, giving Kratos one last glare. "Good. And by the way, Zeus knows you came here. And he's not pleased." Ares grimaced, before blasting away in a column of fire, shooting a parting glare at Kratos. The ashen god for his part took a few breaths, reining in his temper.

"Kratos, I am sorry for this. I will take the children and we will be gone from your home immediately."

Kratos glared at three forgotten demigods. "Take them, and get out of my sight." He stormed back to his cabin, slamming the door behind him. Percy could only gape. Then Hestia was among them. "Now, I'll be taking you three back to camp."

"Now wait a damn minute-" Clarisse started. But she was cut of by the sudden feeling of vertigo. When the three caught their balance, they found they weren't in the forest. They were back in Camp Half-Blood, in front of the brazier in the centre of the cabins.

"Lady Hestia," Annabeth pleaded, "who was that man? I've never heard of a god named Kratos."

"Yeah, and what did he do to piss of my old man like that?"

Hestia sighed. Although Percy didn't voice it he was just as curious, now that the shock from being in the vicinity of that fight was wearing of.

"I doubt any of you will stop asking around so fine. You wish to know his slight against Ares? He killed him."

"I'm sorry, did you say he killed a God?" Percy asked, astounded.

"He killed many, but Ares holds the greatest grudge of all of them."

The three stood, wide eyed and shocked. How, they all thought. How does one kill a god?

"This was a long time ago. He brought Olympus down, and by the time we recovered, we weren't ourselves anymore. And all we wanted to do was forget."

Hestia, stared into the fire, collecting herself. "Let me tell you a story. Of our greatest warrior, and our greatest shame. Of a man who killed Gods."


End file.
